Cruel Summer
by littlemsbookworm
Summary: She trusts her sister. She trusts her husband. She tells herself this, over and over. But can she believe them?
1. Suspicion

Eliza Hamilton knows that her sister is exceptionally fond of her husband. It would take an extraordinary fool not to notice, and Eliza is no fool. She's seen the way Angelica looks at Alexander- seen the way that her eyes would follow him across the room and how she would dash up to him to share her latest idea or advice.

Eliza Hamilton also knows that her sister and her husband have shared a special bond from the first moment they met. They are kindred souls, both a bit different from the norm, not to mention headstrong, high-spirited, exceptionally intelligent, and they would rather put gunpowder in their tea then back down from a cause they believe in. Put the two in a room together and their conversations could last hours. She laughs to herself when she thinks of them in one of their heated debates about some topic or another, two unstoppable forces of nature clashing in a battle of wills unlike any other.

The newspapers love to gossip about the close relationship between the Secretary of the Treasury and his sister-in-law. Eliza tries her best to avoid reading the libel and to ignore any malicious gossip, because if there's one thing she's learned from being a politician's wife- especially one as scathing with a pen as Alexander Hamilton- it's that any attempt to harm a rival's reputation is fair game, no matter how unscrupulous or far-fetched.

More importantly, she trusts her sister and she trusts her husband. They are the most important people in her life, even though one of them is currently three thousand miles away and the other one is so busy with work that he might as well be. Still, she loves them all the same, and with that in mind Eliza has never worried that anything could come of an unrequited crush and the unfounded speculation of some broadsheets.

* * *

One night, Eliza goes into her husband's study. Alexander is out late at an important business dinner, the children are all asleep, and she had been about to do the same when the sound of something falling and crashing to the floor across the hall gives her pause. Quietly getting out of bed and going across to the closed door, she pauses grabbing the handle. The children aren't allowed inside their father's office, and an unspoken agreement between husband and wife has meant Eliza rarely ventures into this particular room herself. Still she turns the knob and enters, stopping for a moment on the threshold and marveling for a moment at the organized chaos that lies before her. Pamphlets about political rivals, calculations of expenses, and proposals for public works are scattered across the desk; sketches of buildings and plans for new ones are stuck to the wall, and the cabinets overflow with books and manuals. Crumpled papers overflow the basket next to the desk and litter the floor all the way to the door where she stands. It's hard for her to ascertain exactly what has caused the noise because in the clutter and disarray it's hard to see what could be out of place.

Among all this disorder one soaring pile of paper on the edge of the large writing desk stands out. She weaves her way toward it and recognizes the scrawling handwriting of her sister on the top page; a quick glance through the pile tells her every letter is from Angelica. The sheer amount of them surprises her, as does the fact that these alone out of everything in the office are perfectly organized and in pristine condition.

Next to the pile is a fresh paper with only three words, a letter Alexander has only begun:

 _My dearest, Angelica_

Eliza reads those words. Reads them again. Slowly becomes aware of her heart pounding in her chest.

 _This is not what you think it is._

Slowly she reaches over and takes the first of Angelica's letters. She reads every word. Then the next one, and the next, and on and on. Before she even realizes it Eliza is reading every single one and violating the trust and privacy of the two people she loves most in the whole world and she can't stop because she needs to prove to herself that the horrible feeling running through her is unwarranted and uncalled for and foolish.

She reads Angelica's ideas and opinions, her encouragement and discouragement, her restlessness and most of all her longing. She doesn't need to read Alexander's letters to know that they must be full of the same, because why else would he write those words?

 _My dearest, Angelica_

Suddenly she wants to grab that stack of pristine papers and rip them to shreds. But she won't, _she can't_ , because Angelica is her sister and her dearest friend and she loves her more than anything and Angelica wouldn't do that to her, would _never_ go behind her back. She trusts her.

She trusted her.

* * *

 _My dearest, Angelica_

The words and the uncertainties they bring burn in her mind long after she has carefully placed back every page, shut the door to the office, and walked back to the bedroom. She sits on the bed and thinks back to that snowy winter evening so long ago when Alexander Hamilton came into their lives for the first time.

Angelica had found him first. When Eliza had looked across the room and seen the two of them together never before had her sister seemed so full of life, so perfectly happy. Eliza- young and naïve and caught up in her own world as she had been that night- hadn't paused to question the fire burning in her sister's eyes when she had called her over to ask to be introduced to the dashing soldier, the fire that continued to burn in them long after Angelica had excused herself and moved to the other side of the room after bringing Alexander and Eliza together. If she had asked, would Angelica have told her? Would she, Eliza, have wanted to know?

Her sister is lively while she is calm, outgoing while Eliza is cautious. Her husband is the same. Compared to the two of them, Eliza has always felt like a bit of an outsider, but until this moment it has never bothered her. Now she wonders; now she doubts.

She lies on the bed and stares at the ceiling. Thinks of that winter night and all the nights since. The worries and the fears that have been circling in her mind over and over for the past hours won't leave her.

What seems like an eternity later she hears Alexander finally arriving home and dives under the covers, trying to feign sleep when he enters the room. Her husband climbs quietly into their bed and wraps his arms around her, drawing her closer to him.

 _My dearest, Angelica_

Eliza lies there in the dark and wonders which one of them would be by Alexander's side if the wheels of fate had spun differently that night all those years ago.

She decides she doesn't want to know the answer.


	2. Exhaustion

_Madison won't talk to me at all- dead end. Need to go around him, find someone he'll listen to… Jefferson hates me but he'd sell his soul to the devil to get a deal in his favor… only chance, have to get something through him. Madison will do whatever he says; I need something to get Jefferson to agree. But what does he want..?_

"Alexander, come downstairs!"

Eliza's call jolts him out of his contemplation and he looks up from the paper that he's been scribbling on for the past hour. "I'll be there in a minute" he shouts down to her, frantically trying to scribble down his last thoughts as his wife's voice carries up the staircase again.

"Alexander!" He hears the edge in her voice and decides it's not wise to hold her off any longer.

Downstairs in the parlor he sees Philip waiting for him, staring at a small piece of paper in his hands. Eliza stands next to him, holding little Angelica by the hand. She looks up as he enters. "Sit down, Philip has something to show you- he's been practicing all day". She gives her son a pat on the shoulder, and Philip looks up at his father with mix of excitement and nervousness on his small face. Alexander looks at his son and nods. "Go ahead son."

Philip tucks the scrap of paper into his pocket, takes a deep breath, and begins to recite his poem.

"My name is Philip…"

For the first time in God knows how long he finds himself with a genuine smile and a rush of pride as he watches his son. He glances over to see Eliza beaming as well as she listens to Philip, little Angelica settled in her lap.

Sitting there surrounded by his family, listening to his son recite the words he's worked so hard on to impress his father, Alexander suddenly feels a stab of guilt. His son is already nine. Soon he'll be a young man. He tries to connect that image with that of the little babe he held in his arms what seems like only yesterday. He's missed out on so much of Philip's life- of both his children's lives. They're growing up and he hasn't been there to see it happen.

What kind of life has he given his children? He glances again at his wife. What kind of life has he given Eliza? Is this everything she had hoped for?

As Philip finishes and he rises to give his son a standing ovation, he vows to himself to spend more time with his family.

Deep in his heart, he understands the futility of this promise. Life in the political world means a choice between one or the other, and it seems he made his long-ago.

* * *

The whole month Eliza has been trying to convince him to go upstate for the summer with their family. She's cajoled, entreated, sweet-talked, and come the closest he's ever seen his wife to threatening in her attempts to wear him down. He replies that he wishes he could go and it's no lie- he desperately wishes to get out of New York for a while to escape all the backstabbing and animosity of the political world and spend time with his family.

Since Philip's birthday he has tried harder to be there for his children, allotting what little spare time he can allow to spending with them. He knows it isn't enough, but the deadline for the debt plan is drawing closer and closer on top of all his other responsibilities and he is no closer to finding a solution. Still, he continues feel pangs of guilt whenever he leaves the house in the early hours of the morning or comes home late at night long after his family is asleep.

But Washington has given him an order, and he must get this plan through Congress before anything else, even his family. He repeats this to himself, over and over, because without the constant reminder it would be too difficult to look into Eliza's eyes as she tells him everything he will be missing upstate and say for the umpteenth time that he's very busy, that he won't be able to make it. Despite this, his wife asks him at every free moment to reconsider his decision not to join her and the children. He can't recall Eliza ever being as determined as she is about this, and it makes the refusal even harder.

 _If I don't get this plan through Congress, we won't be able to spend summers upstate. I'll lose my job. Everything is riding on this._

Alexander repeats this mantra to himself. The dissatisfaction won't go away.

He writes these doubts and many more to Angelica. Most of his friends are either dead or far away, and his wife is so preoccupied with taking care of their expanding family and all the worries and concerns that go with it that he can't bring himself to add any more to her troubles. Angelica is the only one who he feels he can really open up to, and who can give him the advice he needs to hear. He wishes it didn't take weeks for him to receive it.

Her latest letter is no different: _You must get through to Jefferson. Don't stop until you agree._

What he would give to have her here with him, to hear her fervently expressing her ideas and giving him the strength to somehow make this all work. He is tired, more tired than he has ever been in his life.

He sets the letter aside and resumes his work.

* * *

On the day Angelica arrives he is once again in the study, still trying to work out a way to get the two sides to compromise.

 _I have to get this plan through Congress. There isn't much time. I have to get this plan through Congress. I have to-_

He's starting to get truly desperate, going over every option and idea over and over, but the breakthrough he needs is nowhere to be found. He hasn't truly slept in days, and fears that he's starting to lose his mind. The words of Aaron Burr keep repeating over and over in his head.

 _Talk less, smile more._

"Alexander! Angelica's arrived!"

Thoughts still circling, he comes downstairs to see Angelica and Eliza locked in a tight hug, laughing from excitement and happiness after such a long separation.

Angelica…"The Schuyler sisters" he says softly, more to himself than anyone else. The two break apart and his sister-in-law turns to him with a wide smile.

"It's so good to see your face."

He offers her a weak smile in return, trying to hide the exhaustion; belatedly he is hit with the realization that Angelica is here before him in the flesh after so long, after months and months of waiting and wishing with only her letters to content him. Angelica will be there, in New York, and he won't be able to see her because of this damned deal. He almost laughs from the sheer irony of it all.

He follows the two of them into the parlor as they continue to chatter breathlessly to each other. Finally Eliza turns to him and crosses her arms.

"Angelica, tell this man to spend the summer with his family."

He thinks he sees a flash of something in her eyes as she looks between the two of them.

Angelica stares at him. "You're not joining us upstate?" Her eyes narrow and he knows the storm is imminent. "I crossed the entire ocean to see you both, and you're not coming?"

For what he hopes is the final time, he explains that he cannot join. He's said the words so many times over the past weeks it comes almost without thinking, but it still leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

Eliza sighs, finally defeated, and he knows it's because she has been counting on Angelica as her ace- confident that she more than anyone else would be able to convince him to go. He can see Angelica preparing to launch into one of her impassioned tirades condemning him for working too hard. He knows she wants him to respond, to argue, but he is so overwhelmingly drained that he does not.

"I have to get my plan through Congress."

He turns away from the two women before either can say another word and goes back upstairs. He is tired.

 _I can't stop until I get this plan through Congress._

So very tired.


	3. Revelation

Angelica Schuyler Church is irritated. She realizes she has absolutely no right to be- in fact, there is a whole list of reasons why she should be the happiest she has been in a very long time: She's back home in the States after being across the sea in England for what seems like an eternity. She's spending the summer with her family, with Eliza- the sister whom she loves more than anyone in the entire world. She gets to see her delightful nephew and the adorable little niece who shares her name. Even the weather is faultless, clear days and warm nights.

Still, despite all these reasons to be satisfied Angelica is not- and the reason why two words: Alexander Hamilton.

On the day she had arrived, when he had told her he wouldn't be joining them-avoiding her eyes, hands fidgeting- she had launched into a heated rebuke, hoping to spur him into action and change his mind.

"Screw your courage to the sticking place Alexander! For heaven's sake, you've done more for this country already than half those men in Congress put together. The others can finish what you started here. Other people besides you want this deal to pass, let them do their share. You always think that you alone know what's best, you alone can do everything. You listen to me- you don't need to do every single thing yourself! _I've_ sailed a thousand miles to see you; the least _you_ can do is take a damn break and spend some time with me!"

She had expected him to fire back at her, to match her energy with his usual fervor.

What she had gotten was the complete opposite-he had weathered her entire tirade without any comment whatsoever. This in itself was enough to throw Angelica completely off guard, and it was her first warning sign that this was something very serious.

"I have to get my plan through Congress" was all he had offered, in a tired and hollow voice that showed his thoughts were a world away.

His uncharacteristically lackluster response unnerved her even more. His entire bearing- normally exuding such powerful confidence and charisma- seemed instead unsure and fragile. It was as though the fire that always burned in him had been snuffed out, leaving only ashes behind. She had glanced at Eliza, and her sister's reaction indicated that this behavior was not something new to her. In fact, Eliza had been looking between the two of them herself as if trying to catch onto some hidden message. Angelica had felt her frown deepen. _What is going on here?_

Before either of them could even think of anything else to say, Alexander had already disappeared back upstairs.

* * *

Angelica has been running over the events of that day in her head ever since, trying to piece together an answer. She knows that the deal her brother-in-law has been working on is extremely important both for the future of the country and his career. She knows that trying to get those in Congress who oppose it-and who greatly dislike him- to come to a compromise is a herculean task. Back in England, she herself had been one of the people pushing him to see it through- _don't stop until you agree._ She hadn't expected that advice to end in this result.

Alexander's dejection worries her that maybe this time he's bitten off much more than he can chew. Is it worth achieving a compromise if his entire self suffers for it?

Eliza's reaction to the entire situation has fueled Angelica's frustration and worries even more. She knows how much her younger sister had been looking forward to this- all of them back together after so long. To see her trying to act as though everything is fine when it clearly is not hurts Angelica much more than Alexander's rejection had. She wants to see her sister relaxed and cheerful with her children. She wants her to smile and laugh and stop having to worry about a husband miles and miles away. Instead Eliza wears a mask of calm that might convince the children she is fine but doesn't fool Angelica in the slightest.

Something else about Eliza worries her as well. Several times she has noticed her sister watching her with a strange expression when she thinks Angelica hasn't seen. And once, late at night not long after they had arrived, Eliza had seemed very much to want to say something to her. But when Angelica had asked Eliza seemed to lose her nerve, giving a small laugh and claiming to be merely tired. Since then her sister has made no more mention of it and Angelica hasn't pressed her. Eliza has always confided in her, ever since they were children. Whatever it is, she will tell her in her own time. But still Angelica feels a deep sense of unease.

Suddenly an idea springs into her head, fully formed. _Yes._ Angelica makes up her mind in an instant, because to her at this moment there is only one solution to this mess they're in. To hell with the compromise and to hell with Congress. She is going back to New York, and she's going to drag her brother-in-law back with her upstate for the summer with threat of force and by his collar if need be. For the sake of his sanity, her sister's, and her own.

After packing as fast as possible, she arranges a coach to bring her back to the city. She tells her father her plan, but decides to keep it a secret from Eliza and the children and makes him promise to do the same. She wants to see their faces light up when their father arrives. She wants to see Eliza with a real smile for the first time in weeks. She can't wait.

It's only a matter of time.

* * *

The city is a long journey from the Schuyler home, but the travel is fast and her racing mind keeps her occupied in the meantime.

It is evening when she finally arrives in New York. Her coach stops at the end of the street and she hurries out of it, thankful to finally be able to stretch her legs and escape its cramped confines. She makes off at a brisk pace down the mostly empty road and is only a few houses away when she sees a young woman ahead of her reach the Hamilton home first.

Angelica doesn't truly take notice at first, seeing the other woman's tattered clothing and assuming her to be one of the many scroungers and downtrodden folk who go door to door asking for alms. But when she gets closer, the door opens and she sees Alexander quickly usher the girl inside. He doesn't see his sister-in-law and closes the door quickly behind himself and the mysterious woman.

Angelica pauses in the middle of the street, trying to process what she has just witnessed. Who was that girl, and why was Alexander letting her into his home? _A friend of the family?_ No, even living abroad as long as she has Angelica still remembers most of the socialites in their circle, and moreso the clothes the woman wears and the way she holds herself are too coarse to mark her as a social acquaintance.

Who is she? Why is she coming to call when the rest of the family is away? And why did Alexander let her in? A restless feeling begins to swirl in her stomach. Her original plan of action has been thrown completely out of her mind in the wake of this new development, a new one quickly forming in its wake.

It's downright improper for a woman of her standing to be sneaking around outside of private residences and spying on their occupants, but at this moment Angelica Schuyler Church could care less, determined as she is to get to the bottom of whatever peculiarity is going on here.

Quickly glancing down the street to make sure no one is watching, she tiptoes along the side of the house. Gently easing the shutter open a tiny bit, she peers inside.

Her heart splinters.

 _He will never be satisfied._


	4. Confrontation

She doesn't know how long she sits by the side of the house. She can feel her pulse racing, her heart pounding in her chest. The sun sinks beneath the horizon; stars slowly emerge in the inky sky above. She listens and waits. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she hears the front door open again. Catches the light footsteps moving away from the house. She waits until they fade into the distance. Then Angelica stands.

The door isn't locked and she doesn't bother to knock. She pushes it open and walks inside. Through the parlor, up the stairs, down the hall. Walks to the office because she knows that's where he'll be, where he always is, even now.

* * *

Half dressed, hair tousled, he sits at the desk scribbling onto a piece of paper. He turns from his work in surprise to see her standing in the threshold. Angelica takes in the look of astonishment and panic that crosses his face as he abruptly stands to face her.

"Angelica! W-what-?" he looks into her eyes and knows at once that she has seen everything.

For a long, excruciating moment she says nothing. A vicious, violent fury courses through her veins. Finally she speaks.

"How long, Alexander?" The rage is barely suppressed in her voice.

"Angelica, please-"

" _How long? How long have you been doing this?"_

He flinches at pure venom in her voice. He looks away.

"Four weeks."

"Who is she?"

"She lives down the street, Maria Reynolds, she came to me-"

"And you decided to fuck her."

"She came to me," he continues quickly before she can cut him off again, "not long after you left. She said her husband was abusing her, mistreating her. That he had run off with another woman, and she didn't have anywhere else to turn. She asked for my aid; I couldn't turn her away. I offered to help her-gave her some money. And then-"

"And _then_ you decided to fuck her. Forgive me; I didn't know this was an act of charity," she says derisively. "You were just a generous soul, giving a poor woman some _comfort_ in her troubled times. How noble. Just how long were you planning on comforting her? All summer? After we came back? Until you could find someone even younger and lovelier and more eager to lift her skirts for you?"

"I-I never meant for any of this to happen. I was so tired, so exhausted. I told myself I had to stop it after the first time. Told myself it was wrong. But I was weak. " his voice sounds hollow.

"And what, Alexander, are you going to do if she gets pregnant? If she has your bastard in her?" Another brief look of panic flits across his face, and she can tell he has not thought of this possibility. _Add that to the list._

"I would have thought you of all people would have understood what this means. What could happen because of this. Did you think you could keep this a secret forever? What will you do if someone else finds out? Or in your selfish delusion of reality did that not occur to you as well?"

She thinks of Eliza and her heart breaks. How can she possibly tell her what she's seen? How could she find the words to destroy her sister's entire world?

"This will break her."

"Yes." He doesn't argue. They both know this is true.

"My sister, the most trusting, kindest, purest soul… will break because of what you did. Do you know what will happen to her if this gets out? Her honor, her reputation, all gone. Because of what _you did_."

He avoids her eyes again, but she can see the guilt racking him. "Eliza…"

"Do you know excited she was? How disappointed she was after you said you wouldn't come? She's been thinking of you all summer, missing you, wishing you were with us. She should have been angry with you, but she wasn't. Do you know why? Because she loves you and _respects_ you and she put your needs before her own. And the children… dear god, the children. Have you even thought about what this is going to do to them? To find out that their father betrayed them and ruined their family all because he couldn't control himself around one begging girl? Of course not. No, you were thinking only of yourself and your desires and what _you_ wanted. " She breathes heavily.

Alexander turns from her and walks to the window, staring out of it to the street below. Silence hangs in the room once more. Angelica waits for him to speak.

His voice is barely a whisper when he replies at last. "No one must know." When he turns to look at her, he is the most pathetic she has ever seen him.

 _Who is this man? What has he become?_

"If after this you still have any shred of the love you once had for me, please, Angelica. Don't tell Eliza. Don't tell my wife. She can never know."

"You don't deserve to get away with this."

"I know."

"You don't deserve her."

"…"

Angelica strides over to Alexander and grabs him by the collar. He stares down at her, pleading. When she speaks again her voice is soft but her words iron.

"You listen to me, and don't you dare say another word. Eliza is the best thing in both our lives, and I love her more than anything- do you hear me? More than _anything_ in this world. If you were half the man I thought you were, you should have felt the same. You would have never been anything but utterly devoted to her. However, what's done is done. I won't tell her, but don't you think for a second that I'm doing this for your sake. I'm doing this for hers, because if she finds out…God help you Alexander. I won't see my sister in that pain. I can't do that to her."

"You will stop seeing this woman. You will stop talking to her, stop writing to her- all of it. You've destroyed everything. Now you get to pick up the pieces. Do you understand? You will spend the rest of your life making up for what you've done to Eliza."

She releases him and stalks toward the door. Turns to face him once last time.

"Congratulations."

* * *

It is only much later, when she is miles away and headed back upstate on the first carriage out of the city she can find, that a voice in the back of her head whispers to her.

 _What about you?_

Across the sea, all those months, his letters had been all that kept her going. What she looked forward to.

She may not have slept with him, but she won't deny the sparks that flew between their letters, the raw emotion that coursed between them in every correspondence. She knows he's felt the same. She saw the look of longing he had given her when she had arrived.

How many times had she lain in bed and dreamed of him? His eyes, his laugh, his smile… Wondered where she would be if only she hadn't seen Eliza that night? If she had never introduced her sister to Alexander, and stepped aside… what could have been…?

 _Is what you've done any better?_


End file.
